The second time, I accidentally broke her tablet. It slipped from my hands. That was it. Argus had someone grab me, and the next thing I knew, my arm was in a cast and I couldn’t even lift it without crying.
The third time, I wasn’t even doing anything wrong. I was just sad. And Celine made me dress up, stand in front of her friends, perform like I was some kind of joke. I almost collapsed that night, but no one stopped her.
Now I only wanted the fifty thousand Celine begged me for my father's treatment. But she cried, said she had no one else, and promised she would pay me back. And this… this was what I got.
Dragged here.
Humiliated.
Reduced to nothing.
“Dahlia,” Argus said, his voice pulling me back like a chain around my neck. “If you can’t pay on time, I’ll take you to court. And trust me, you won’t survive that.”
My legs felt weak.
When I thought about my father lying in that hospital bed, machines breathing for him and bills piling up like they were waiting to bury me too, I forced a smile. It felt wrong on my face, like it didn’t belong to me anymore.
I turned to the man sitting beside Argus, “If I… if I serve you well tonight, will you really give me fifty-two million?”